Paying respects to Tutu Pele in the Valley of Fires

Just two hours from the shala, by road, is the Carrizozo Malpaís, a spectacular landscape of black pahoehoe lava, believed to be among the youngest of lava flows on the North American continent.

At about 5000 years old, it’s not that young compared to some lava I have known in my once upon a time life as the privileged guest of Pelehonuamea way out there on the dot of newest land on earth, erupting in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, but it is young in the context of it’s surrounding geology.

Earth scientists and geologists believe this lava flowed out slowly over a period of around three decades, spreading a spectacular 44 miles (68 km) in length and extending over 127 sq miles (328 sq km) to fill the Tularosa Basin.

To provide public access to this very special landscape, the federal government’s Bureau of Land Management (BLM) maintains the Valley of Fires Recreational Area just off Hwy380, 4 miles west of Carrizozo.

There are a fair number of developed campsites arranged on a ridge so all have beautiful views and are nicely spaced from neighbors, an ablution block with showers, a volunteer staffed visitor center and bookshop (closed at the time I was there midweek last week), picnic shelters and a beautifully laid out and maintained around 1 mile long ADA accessible, interpretive trail loop through a section of the lava flow.

Because the sun, even in winter, can be strong in this enchanted black lava rock landscape, I wanted to be on the trail reasonably early.

With the Bosque Del Apache NWR (previous post) sunrise meditation, that worked out to be around 8:30 am on this visit

Shadows were thus angled long and dark.

Of course the sky was exquisite bluebird. It still takes my breath away every day, after how many years? How can it be so beautiful? So flawless. So blue?

The new-day world was so fresh: sparkling with a glittering, shimmering light.

All the prickly, spikey plants dazzled in this natural setting, winter fiery hued against black lava. For some opuntia, I think cold stress brings out seasonal reds, oranges and purples. Take that leaf peepers!

I was grateful for the boardwalk trail which kept me away from inadvertently getting too intimate with some of these beauties, distracted as I can be by the linear loveliness of other plant offerings, like these yucca, who, incidentally are in the asparagus family.

The trail has interpretive boards, often with tactile or interactive elements making it fun on a whole other level while embracing neurodiversity too.

I loved this discovery station about the wildlife of the lava flow with it’s snakey snake and information flip cards with clues.

Flip the card to find the critter named and pictured underneath.

There was a similar one about the plants.

Such a lot of thought, effort and expertise has gone into creating this trail, just one of many national recreational sites across the country.

While I was exploring all the wonders of wandering through a lava landscape, a person with mobility challenges was making their way around, easily navigating the gentle inclines and angles of the boardwalk with a walker, while chatting with a companion and two dogs (on leashes, I note with approval). In the picture below, the white railings of the trail wind up the center right of the image, unobtrusive but so well designed and executed. One can also see a camper at one of the typical ridgeline campsites (far right) and a group picnic shelter, center.

Thank you! to every steward of public lands: the rangers, protectors, conservators, interpreters and educators; the researchers and the technicians; the bathroom cleaners and the visionary designers of public recreational spaces; the day to day managers and the myriad librarians and archivists who keep the records. The salaried and seasonal; and the volunteers who fill in the gaps and pick up the trash. I see you. I applaud you. I benefit from you doing what you do, what you have done in service, in public service, for doing what I hope you will be permitted to continue to do.

I walk my feet on sacred lava in gratitude. If ever I’m struggling with what sacred means anymore, I find it helps to get outside, to touch the earth, to be in landscape, under sky.

I am made whole, brim filled with awe and wonder, briefly, this day, in just a few hours of a bluebird morning on the malpaís.

I must believe Tutu Pele, eater of earth, protector of sacred land, has a plan. She always does.

In the end.

Note: speaking of ends, this Carrizozo malpaís is not far from the Trinity Site where the first nuclear weapon was detonated on 16 July 1945. It also borders on the White Sands Missile Range, (WSMR) a closed swathe of land used for United States military secret stuff. There is only one day a year (usually in October) when the public can visit the National Park Service maintained Trinity Site. There’s no day that I know when Johanna Public is permitted to walk feet on WSMR.